The 22nd Hunger Games: Terra Edenthaw
by lucky97mary
Summary: Terra is just a 14 year old girl who loves to run, whose older sister Saffra would do anything for her. But Saffra is too old to volunteer when Terra is chosen to represent District 12 in the 22nd Games. Will this little spitfire of a girl be enough to win the Capitol's Games, or will she meet the same fate as so many tributes before her? The untold story of 12's first Victor.
1. Chapter 1

I returned from my morning run covered in sweat, just in time to hear my sister calling my name.

"Terra! Get ready! We're going to be late to the reaping!"

I could feel the panic rising in my throat, threatening to overcome me. But I got ready anyway; there was no avoiding the reaping. My sister Saffra stood behind me in the mirror, braiding my red hair back into a complicated braid, refusing to meet my eyes. When she at last looked up I could see tears threatening to brim over in her eyes.

"I would volunteer for you if I could. I hope you know that."

I nodded at her, but my sister was too old to be in the Hunger Games at the age of 19, so it didn't matter either way. She threw her arms around me as the tears spilled over, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

"Hey, who says I'll get picked? I can run anyways, they'd never be able to catch me."

She smiled back at my futile attempt to lighten the mood, though she clearly doubted out running the competition would do me much good with my huge lack of experience with weapons of any sort. Sure, I was fast and had more endurance than anyone I'd ever met, and I was smart, the smartest in my class.

But that would never be enough versus the brutality of the Careers, people who had more experience with weapons at the age of 18 than most people have in their entire lives.

_No. Don't think that way. But what about Kylia, my best friend? She could be picked too. So could Althea or Savera or even Wren._ I shuddered at the thought of any of them being chosen, especially Wren. Wren was a sweet 16 year old girl I often ate lunch with, a girl with a tall, incredibly slender frame.

A girl who couldn't hope to survive a day in the arena.

But then again, could I?

I was in a daze as I slipped into my sister's old sea green dress, which matched my light green eyes and clashed with my red hair. There was a pit opening itself in my stomach and I found myself wishing I could just fall into it.

I always seemed to know when something was off, when I needed to brace myself for the emotional or physical blow that was coming. I had known one day when I was 6 that something was seriously wrong. That was the day my parents had never come home, having been killed in an accident down in the mines, like so many other people in District 12. And today, something was wrong, seriously wrong.

I arrived at the reaping the town center suddenly, having no idea how I'd gotten there. But then Saffra was hugging me, telling me everything will be fine, followed by my twin older brothers Renwick and Crucis. Strange, how had they gotten there?

But then they were walking away from me, all of them too old to be chosen in the reaping. I just stood there until I found the huge blue eyes of Kylia, and I walked through the crowd towards her, seeing nothing until we were just two feet apart. She reached out and squeezed my hand quickly before letting it drop.

We stood together, surrounded by other 14 year old girls who were as silent as the two of us. I saw Althea and Wren together with the 16 year old girls, and nodded to them, doing the same to Savera in the 15 year old group shortly afterwards.

I avoided the eyes of anyone else as the usual speech about lies like honor and the greatness of capitol droned on and on. I wanted to spit at them, at the capitol itself. They disgusted me with the way they lived, the way they controlled us, the way they watched us starve, the way they killed children on TV for _entertainment._

But my head snapped up when the silly capitol woman whose name I could never recall clicked her way across the stage towards the reaping ball. She swirled her obscenely long nails around the slips of paper.

Those pieces were meaningless, until the capitol put the meaning behind them. They meant that the name printed on that piece would be on their way to the capitol to play a deadly game. To be put in some arena somewhere, to be followed by cameras and to be forced to fight with 23 other "tributes" until none others remained.

The women plucked out a paper, rubbing it between fingers that had never been put to work, and read the name.

My name.

Terra Edenthaw.

_Terra Edenthaw._

_No, no, no, no, no._

"TERRA!" my name exited Saffra's throat sounding strangled. She threw herself through the crowd and they separated for her. Saffrathrew her arms around me, bending over me and shielding my body as if threatening them to try and take me. _Get it together._ I placed my hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look into my eyes.

"I have to go Saffra. I have to."

"No! You can't, you're only 14. You're my sister. You can't."

I nodded at her, and she searched my eyes over and over.

"I have to." I whispered to her, releasing her face and moving towards the stage.

When I turned I could see the faces of the people of the district, nearly all of them recognizable. It was clear they recognized me too, as I stood out with my red hair and green eyes, an unusual find in District 12 where dark hair and gray eyes were expected.

My eyes searched immediately for familiar faces. Both Kylia and Savera stood apart from those in their group, tears slipping in trails down their faces. Both Wren and Althea stood clutching each other, wide eyed and pale. Renwick and Crucis stood together, shock written across their faces.

I knew my face was a mask by now, a mask I had mastered years ago, though I wondered if I would throw up before reaching the stage.

"Will there be any volunteers?"

_Oh no. _ I hadn't even thought of that. Kylia stepped forward, determination shining in her wide blue eyes. I heard a scream come from where her mother stood in the back.

"No, don't. For me, stay. Stay with Saffra." Though my voice was quiet, it could be heard over the absolute silence of the district.

"Goodness! Well isn't that a surprise, I don't ever remember a tribute refusing a volunteer!" I could hear the hesitation in her voice; were we even allowed to refuse volunteers? "You must be so excited to have such an honor Terr-" My cold glare silenced her before she finished my name. She bustled over to the boy's reaping bowl, making a show of choosing the slip of paper.

"Grandis Ivory!"

Some odds I've got today. Grandis was a boy I'd known for years, and I was going to the arena with him. Oh, why? Judging by how well my odds were going lately, I might have to fight him if someone else doesn't get him first. Would I do that? _Could _I do that? No, there's no way. I'm not a murderer. I won't be.

"May I present to Panem, the District 12 tributes of the 22nd Hunger Games!"

Then it was over, the reaping finished. We were herded into another room, and I think we were somewhere in the Justice Building when Saffra and my brothers burst through the door.

Something has happened with Saffra in the minutes we were apart. The fear and anguish on her face has been replaced with determination so strong it could be misconstrued as anger.

"You can win this Terra, you can and you know it. Just run, get what you can from the Cornucopia but you better be gone within 5 seconds of stepping off that platform. Do not stop for anything. You're smart and fast and strong and if there's anyone who can win these Games, it's you."

"I will, I swear to you Saffra. I'll give everything I have to get home to you guys."

At that moment Kylia, Savera, Althea, and Wren all burst into the room and threw themselves towards me. Then they were all speaking at once.

"She's right, you're the fastest girl I know. No one will be able to keep up with you Terra."

"Don't step off your platform and get blown up, please."

"Eat as much as you can beforehand, you're going to lose weigh in the arena."

"Charm them, get yourself sponsors. They'll fall in love with you, make sure you hold their attention."

"Don't do anything stupid either. Don't stop or think or do anything that could get you hurt."

I nodded to them all, and each one moved forward to hug me. All but Kylia, Saffra and my brothers left the room. We just sat together on the couch, trying to think of something to say. But there was nothing to say, nothing that could change what had just happened.

When only a few minutes were left of my time in District 12, Kylia pulled me into a tight hug, whispering in my ear, "You're going to make it, and you'll come back to us. Don't you dare give up."

I nodded to her, trying my best to appear reassuring. She took a deep breath and walked off with Renwick and Crucis, who hugged me each in turn. Then they were gone, and I couldn't help but wonder if it would be the last time I'd ever see them.

I pulled in a gust of air and turned to face my sister. She bit her lip and began to cry as the determination so evident earlier slipped away from her face. I finally lost it too, and threw myself into her familiar arms as I let myself cry for the first time that day.

_What if this is it? _I wondered over and over, holding on as hard as I could to her.

I shook in fear while Saffra stroked my hair as it soaked up her tears. Then so quickly, far too quickly, our time was up.

I refused to believe that _my _time was up as well. I had to come back for my sister. The peacekeepers pulled me away from Saffra and I nodded, my jaw clenched, trying to give her strength and comfort in my absence.

I went away from the Justice Building with dignity, my sister's dark eyes and dirty blonde hair the only thing I could see.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time I reached the train, I had already decided that seeing your loved ones for the last time is the worst feeling in the world. I want to vomit, to scream, but instead I do something far more insane: I laugh.

I can't stop laughing from the moment I walk away from all those flashing cameras. What is going on? This isn't funny. This could never be funny.

The look Grandis gave me still isn't enough to stop me. I can practically hear his thoughts they're shining through his eyes so clearly. _I'm going into the Arena with a girl who has completely lost it._

The realization at the truth in this begins to dawn on me, and finally I stop.

"What in the hell was that?" demands Grandis, his voice incredulous, "do you think this is _funny?_ What is wrong with you?!"

I swallow loudly, anger flaring up. I lash out before I can stop myself.

"At least I wasn't _crying._ I'd rather go into the Arena with a crazy person than a wimp." My words crack out like a whip, and I can see his jaw tighten in restrained rage. I had hit him right where it hurts: he lost his best friend to the Games last year. He hasn't been the same since—depression had wrapped its arms around him and refused to let go.

Regardless, I had always viewed tears as a weakness, especially in front of stranger. In front of Saffra was one thing, she knew everything about me. But those people with the cameras? They don't know you. They know what their first impression of you is, and that can kill you or save you in these Games.

I informed him of this in a perfectly matter-of-fact manner, refusing to allow the pang of guilt to stop me. He needs to learn, and he needs to learn fast. I'm all business now, and he's likely the only ally I'm going to have.

"She's right," said a male voice, its source striding into view a moment later. He's a tall, dark haired, silver eyed man who looks wildly familiar, though my mind doesn't conjure up a name to accompany the face.

"She's also crazy," hissed Grandis, and the man's head snapped up to look at him.

"Laughing is a fairly normal human reaction when the body, or the mind, can't handle serious bad news."

I know this unnamed man is correct, but his words hit me the wrong way. "I _can_ handle it."

Grandis rolled his eyes, and the man doesn't even react.

"I'm Jaxen Lockhearst. I'm here to help mentor one of you. Your escort will take the other."

"But…you're not a Victor. We don't have a Victor," I said, the words sounding stupid and slow as they leave my mouth.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out," he responded, clearly frustrated. "But the Capitol decided one escort couldn't do the job alone, so I was the lucky District 12 resident who got that job. I live in the Capitol now." His tone hardens at the end, and it doesn't take a genius to realize that he's a bitter man.

Just then, the woman from the stage waltzed in, a perfect stereotype of the Capitol people. Her hair, or _wig,_ is lime green, and her skin is strange silver color. Her eyelashes go up to her eyebrows, which are sharp silver lines. I want to spit at the ridiculous extravagance of the Capitol while we sit in the Districts, starving away.

But I could very well end up with her as my mentor, and so I can't step on any toes. I made my sister a promise. I intend to keep it.

"In case you've forgotten, _I _am Tule Lapworth." Her shrill voice, combined with the utter irony of her last name (she is, after all, just another Capitol lapdog) made my blood boil, but the memory of the look on Saffra's face keeps me silent.

"I'll take the girl," blurts out Jaxen suddenly, and it takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about. He's just claimed me as his tribute to mentor.

"WHAT?!" yells Grandis, standing up and knocking his chair over in the process.

"_Excuse me_, but I do have a bit more experience than this District trash, thank you very much!" snaps the lapdog, and every jaw in the room drops.

"Let me get this straight," says Jaxen, a hint of laughter in his voice, "you just called _me_ District trash, but you want a boy who's from the _same District_ to appreciate your so called experience?"

"Not that your experience has done any of our past tributes any good," mutters Grandis, clearly correct. In the past 21 years, not a single District 12 tribute has even made it to the final 8. My chances at survival are extremely slim, even without the Capitol woman as my mentor. Doesn't mean I won't try, for Saffra's sake. And for my brothers and friends.

"I didn't mean that." Tule's voice is snappy, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll be in my room. I'll see you when we've reached our destination."

Jaxen bursts out laughing the moment she's left the room, though I'm sure she's not out of earshot, which makes me wonder why he even waited.

"I'll talk to _you,_" says Jaxen, looking pointedly in my direction, "in a few hours. The two of you should eat while you can." He leaves, and I'm left staring at Grandis, who's looking at me with utter disbelief.

It dawns on me that he thinks I'm the reason he's going to die, but that's not something I'm willing to take the blame for. I didn't ask for Jaxen as my mentor—he chose me. Not my fault.

Right?

The odds are not in my favor to go home. But they're even _less_ in his favor. So I make a very, very stupid, irrational, possibly even slightly insane decision.

"I'll tell you everything he tells me about the Games." I say it quickly, as if I'm afraid I'll try to take it back. I shouldn't be helping anyone in these Games; that will only make them more of a threat to me. But I just _can't_ leave my District partner out to dry. Especially after what he's gone through in the past year.

We both deserve a fighting chance.

"I don't believe you." I let out an impatient sigh at his declaration. He should be grateful to me, not disbelieving.

Though if I were in his shoes, I'd likely feel the same way.

"You have my word." My voice is steady and strong, and he knows enough about me to realize that I have never gone back on my word to date.

He nods once and walks off, leaving me sitting there wondering if I just broke my promise to my sister.

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